Friday Inspiration – Be Like Batman and Other Advice

Not every bit of encouragement is right for everyone. To that end, there is no theme today. (The horror!) Take what works for you.

Ok, I know. Maybe it’s not cool to make a joke about the Titanic. BUT, Pinchy there has a point. For most awful things in life, there is something positive that comes from it. Even if it is hard to see.

So let me explain something. Batman is awesome. When people debate who is better, Batman or Superman, I point out that Superman has super powers and a piece of rock makes him cry, where Batman is just a super awesome rich dude with the coolest house, car, and toys ever. Rocks are for crushing! YEAAH!

Ahem. Point being, even though Batman is super awesome, he has naysayers. People who just don’t get him. You know what Batman thinks about that? He doesn’t.

Chances are, someone in life is not going to “get” your awesomeness. They may even think that you, or the things you love, are ridiculous. Be like Batman. Ridiculously awesome.

This one is for the parents. I happen to be a bit of a neurotic mommy at times. When anything isn’t going just so with my kid, I start second guessing my parenting skills. Must. Be. Perfect!

But then I rememeber, my parents did an awesome job with all five of their kids. They were not perfect. And we are hilarious. (Ok, I should say my siblings are hilarious, because next to them I am about as dull as a rock…)

So, stop trying to be the perfect parent. You’ll doom your kid to being the most boring person in the world.

There is never a day when NO one understands you. Even if it is just your couch.

There are ways to disagree without being disagreeable. Find yours.

There is no reason for this. Sometimes, you don’t need a reason, right?

For those of you starting ROW80 on Monday, I’ll see you there. Until then, have a great weekend everyone!

Zoo Rules

I’m off to the zoo this morning.

(And there was great rejoicing.)

It has been a long while since I’ve been to one, so I thought I should get a bit of a refresh on things to keep in mind when you’re hanging with wild animals.

This is the most important reminder of the day.

For the love of Pete, people, watch what you say to the elephants.

 

[Have a lovely weekend!]

 

 

Dear Fox News: Don’t Be a Jerk

This weekend I was doing a little online reading when, somehow, this article appeared. For those of you disinclined to click a link while reading a post, I’ll sum it up for you. The “article” is a series of photos of celebs who have “lost their mojo”. The slide show runs through about 50 people, once considered hot stars who look less than that now.

I couldn’t help but wonder what sort of person felt good about themselves upon writing this. I feel weird even calling it “writing”. Let’s just call it typing.

“Umm, this guy was like hot when I was 12. Look at him in this photo. He totally looks like he ate a burger. Oh, and he has, like, wrinkles and stuff. I’m totally writing about this. This article is going to rock your socks. Also, I’m awesome.”

Of course, this writer/pretend journalist likely has the attention span of a flea* so instead of writing an actual article on one actor, they scoured the interwebs for unflattering photos of anyone over 30 and simply wrote 15-25 word blurbs about each photo.

If you take the time to scroll through the photos, which, sadly, I did, you’ll notice a few things. For any of you who plan to be famous some day, take notes.

I hope I look this good at his age. Except, less like a man.

1. Do not get old**. It’s clearly not allowed. Actors like Alec Baldwin, Matthew Perry, and Corbin Bernsen were included in this gallery. Now, I don’t know about you, but I still think all three of these guys are still handsome men. Catherine Bach, Linda Hamilton, and Kathleen Turner made the list as well, again, for the sole offense that they’ve aged. Wrinkles. Totally ew.

2. Do not gain weight. If you have children, you better get that butt to the gym immediately. If you aren’t Glamour magazine ready in six weeks or less, well, you’ve obviously given up.

3. While you can’t get old, you also should not get plastic surgery. At least not any kind that  anyone will ever notice. I know, I said wrinkles are “ew” but if people can tell that you had something tucked or inflated, then clearly, you’re trying too hard.

4. Don’t ever be in a photo that isn’t professionally taken, photoshopped, and approved by you. Every “after” shot of you will be some picture of you leaving your house after being struck down with swine flu for a month. Or slurping spaghetti at a diner in between takes. These photos will be used as evidence of how ugly you’ve become. Also, these photos will be taken from angles that give you five chins.

Now, as adorable as I am with bedhead, I am one of the least photogenic people I know. And, having somewhat recently passed the “old” threshold, I’m happy to say that I have no grand plans of becoming a star of stage or screen. (Sorry, Hollywood.)

Despite the fact that I will never be the subject of a spread like this, I still find the article disturbing. The celebs in these photos probably don’t even look at these things, and if they did, they’d likely just wipe away their almost-tears with a hundred dollar bill and call it a day. So, while I feel for them, there is a much bigger issue here.

Body image has been a hot topic for a long time. Setting unrealistic goals for young girls and guys (and let’s face it, the not so young) resulting in all sorts of self-esteem and eating issues is dangerous. Articles like this just solidify that unhealthy view and put the focus on the external. Welcome to why we have shows like Jersey Shore clogging up our TVs.

Lately, bullying has become the hotter topic. Accepting people for who they are. Apparently this does not apply if you gain weight, wrinkles, or simply look bad in an unfortunately timed photo. The same news outlets that report on the tragedy of a young person taking their own life, or the lives of others, because in part they were bullied, posts articles that are essentially written by bullies.

Bullies are cowards. They pick on others to make themselves feel bigger and better. They feel deficient, so they mock what they deem deficient in others, hoping no one will look too closely at them.

And every once in awhile, they are just jerks.

So, to the person who wrote this, I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you feel dumb, or fat, or ugly. I’m sorry that you feel the only way to express your own inadequacies is to point and laugh at others from the comfort and anonymity of your desk chair. I’m sorry that whoever chose to publish this feels that you need Perez Hilton-like idiocy to get people to visit your news site.

Also, be aware that someone, somewhere has or will have very unflattering pictures of you. Better hope they like themselves enough not to share them.

Or that they’re not a jerk.

***

*Fleas, I apologize. That was unfair of me.
**By “old”, I mean over thirty. ***It should be noted that I will make jokes about people I love. But there is a line.

Thursday Tweets – #Hashtaggin’!

It’s Thursday, so I feel the need to blog about something that starts with “T”.

I probably should be blogging about something that starts with “Th”, but that limits me greatly, and I don’t really have the know how to write a solid post entitled “The Thursday Theremin”.

Maybe another Thursday...

(Although seriously, that thing is pretty awesome. Just sayin’)

So, how about Twitter? I mean, after all, there are a lot of people navigating the waters of social media, and I did take the time to talk about Google+.

Why not talk Tweets?

I should preempt this with the warning that I have no plans of making this a regular thing.  Nor will I have a Facebook Friday. And a MySpace Monday? Please. I wouldn’t have had one of those if it was 10 years ago. Ick.

But Twitter is the choice of businesses and celebs alike. And I have to admit, as neither of those things, I still find it pretty useful. Of all the social media platforms out there I’ve found Twitter the most useful for expanding my network.

When I first started using it, quite some time ago, I didn’t see the appeal right away. After all, for a verbose person like myself, why not use Facebook where I can say what I want and not be limited to 140 characters?

Twitter is great when you know how to use it. If you plan on using it, the first thing I recommend is using an app like TweetDeck. (Check out posts like this one on how to get the most out of TD – this blogger has more than one post on the topic, so look feel free to browse when you get there.)

The piece that I was missing at the beginning that made a world of difference for me?

Hashtags.

When you are on Twitter, you’ll notice users doing things like this:

I wrote a post about #bacon. Check it out. {link} #baconlovers #ameating #pigsaremagical

I talk pork at #baconsuitsaresexy

If you are wondering what the deal is with all those # (hashtags), these tags enable Tweeps (Twitter People) to follow certain topics. If I love bacon, I might have a column in Tweetdeck where I follow #bacon. Or, I might be a part of a group that discusses the virtues of every porcine piece at #pigsaremagical. If you tweet a message using those tags, anyone following the tag will see it, even if they don’t follow you.

If what you tweeted using those tags is of particular interest to those watching the tags, they might even take the leap and start following you personally.

Cool, right?

Well, before you start adding every tag imaginable to your post, some caveats.

He follows me. In a non-creepy way.

One of the things I enjoy about Twitter is how public it is. If I want to follow the swoonworthy @NathanFillion, I can. He doesn’t have to accept me as friend, I just follow him. If I am especially fortunate, someone I adore and follow might follow me back (thanks, Craig Bierko). Same idea tends to go with tags. You can use tags as you see fit. No one is stopping you from following or using a given hashtag.

BUT, some tags are used more like a specific group chat than a social hangout. Know your tags before you use them. If a tag is used primarily for chatting and you attempt to use it to spread a link to your blog or a cause you want to promote, you could unintentionally upset the users of the tag.

This goes for retweeting, too. Pay attention to the tags on a tweet. If you aren’t familiar with them, either get familiar or take them off. It may seem silly, but some tags have rules, and it doesn’t behoove you to upset the regulars.

Tweetiquette is important. Prevents angry mobs.

For your own benefit and those you are retweeting, spread the link love around to different tags. Whether you are promoting your own blog post, or the post of a fellow blogger, if everyone tweets the same link to the same tag in the same span of 30 minutes, guess what? The same people see the link. Over and over. A few times is emphasis. More than that is annoying. Don’t keep retweeting with the same hashtag.

What if you really adore someone’s link, but aren’t familiar with very many tags? Favorite the tweet to save it for later.  Keeping it in your favorites makes it easy to return to it and broadcast another time.  A different time of day, or a different day entirely will bring a new audience to your fellow bloggers link. You’ll be doing them a favor, and keeping one tweet from cluttering up a particular tag. Once you’ve retweeted, you can always unfavorite (or keep it there if you really love it).

Of course, hashtags don’t have to just be about networkingt. Sometimes, they can just be for fun. Some are used for games, like #replacebooktitleswithbacon. If I tweet “Gone with the Bacon” followed by that tag, anyone playing along can see my contribution.

You can also use them on a smaller scale to add humor to your tweets. There are varying opinions on that, but being that I am one of those people that use them that way, I say go for it. Others might enjoy the tag enough to start using it themselves.

Like #tweetjack. (The act of jumping in on a conversation between two people)

And now, I’m off. All this talk of bacon and hash has me craving some breakfast.

Just getting started and need a quick shot of the basics?  Check out this post.  

Want to know more about making your Twitter life easier? Have questions? Leave them in the comments, or send me a Tweet at @amberwest. I don’t guarantee I have the answers, but I will at least attempt to be entertaining.

Blackbird has the right idea...

Friday Inspiration – Better than You

I have a bad habit of comparing myself to others.

I’ll take a photo and think, “Wow, that turned out great!”  Then I’ll stare at a million other photos on the internet and think, “Wow, I’m awful.”

I’ll cook a meal and think, “This is the most delicious meal in the history of eating!”  Then I’ll go to my brother’s house for dinner and think, “I’ll never make something this good.”

I’ll write something and think, “Hey, this sounds really good!”  Then I’ll read a novel or an article and think, “Hey, why am I trying to write again?”

I’ll look at my kid and think, “I’m a pretty awesome mom.”  Then I’ll look at someone else and think, “What am I doing wrong?”

Yup.  I’m pretty neurotic like that.  I basically walk around seeing variations of this guy in my head.

It’s not a healthy way to go about life.  Since I know that I am not the only crazy person beating myself up on a daily basis, I’m taking today to let you know something.

I’m better than you.

No, wait, come back.  There’s more.

You’re better than me, too.

Every one in this world has strengths.  There is something in life that you do incredibly well.  It may not be the thing you love the most.  It may not even be something that you think of as a skill.  Chances are, there is someone out there that envies your ability to do that thing.  They are sitting in a corner rocking back and forth wishing they were as good as you.

Maybe you keep a pristine home.  Or you know how to get every stain imaginable out of a shirt.  It could be your business savvy, your ability to throw together an outfit, the way you can change the oil of your car without getting dirty; whatever it is, you make it look effortless.

Maybe for you, it is effortless.  Maybe that is why you don’t recognize your strength in that area, because for you, it seems easy or of little consequence.

You are better than someone at something.  And someone is better than you at something else.  There is no point in keeping a balance sheet of what falls in each column.  Instead, spend that time doing something more constructive, like learning to be better at what you love, and appreciating what you do well.

I’m not there yet.  I’m a long way from being satisfied with who I am and what I can do.  But I’m determined to try.

Maybe when I get there, I’ll find better things to think about when I am lying in bed trying to sleep.

Or maybe not.

 

 

The Expert

I’m a fan of words.

The origins of them fascinate me, as well as the way their usage changes across time.

One word in particular has been irking me lately.  Well, not the word. *pats pretty little word on the head* More the way people throw it around.

Expert.

What exactly does the word mean?

The English word is derived directly from the Latin experiri which literally means “to try, to test” (four years of a dead language FTW!).  So an expert is, at their most basic form, someone who has “tried and tested”.  We use the word to denote that someone has special knowledge in a field, that someone has tried/tested the various aspects of that area.

I’ve been called an expert before.  It’s flattering.  And in some areas, it could be seen as true, in the most literal sense of me being a person who has tried and tested things enough to have above average knowledge in that area.

So what has me so bothered?  It’s the growing trend of self-proclaimed experts.

T-Shirt c/o Zazzle.com

There are a lot of them out there.  Unfortunately, once they proclaim their expertise with enough confidence, they get others referring to them as experts, too, making it difficult to discern how they got the title in the first place.  It’s a fast moving snowball of arms and legs waving you down, telling you to hop on or be left behind.

You don’t have to join them.  It’s ok to study your map, research the trails and make your own choices to get to the bottom of the mountain.  The people yelling from the snowball might have some good ideas, but you don’t have to go rolling down with them. You know what happens to those waving arms and legs when the snowball gets to the bottom?

To quote my 2 year old: KERSPLAT.

So, as a public service to the three of you still listening (what? no, I didn’t bring donuts…), ahem, the two of you still listening, here are some things to watch for when listening to an “expert”.

Advice Vomit

There are two levels of advice regurgitation to watch for.

One, restating what another expert said when it doesn’t need it.  “Established expert says “XYZ”.  Now, let me break it down into page upon page of trite rhetoric.  ‘Cause, I’m smarter than you.  Remember, I’m an expert.”

The second involves the expert repeating their own advice over and over.  And over.  An expert worth their salt will have something new to offer.

The Sales Pitch

I’ve got no issues with people who market a product, even when that product happens to be them.  I do get very leery of anyone who tells me how awesome they are and how much they know, only to follow it with “…and you can be, too, in four easy installments of 19.95!”

I’m Just Like You, Only Better

The “I made the same mistake once” line is one I loathe.  The idea behind it seems innocent enough. It allows one to commiserate, to say, “hey, we all make mistakes”.  Don’t feel bad about yourself. Nice idea, right?

What that line often means:  “I once shoveled manure with the lowly slaves, but now I’m living luxuriously in a castle of my own awesomeness.  Bask in the glow that is me. I’ll even toss you the crusts from yesterday’s sandwich.”  In case you didn’t catch it, you just got called a poopy covered serf.

Beware the Modifier

There is a distinct difference between someone saying that they are “an” expert versus “the” expert.  If you see those three letters, run for the hills.  While this person may have some words of value to impart, they’ve let their experience go to their head.  They have just made themselves “the Alpha and Omega” of their area of supposed expertise.

As any fairly intelligent person will tell you, there is always someone out there who knows more than you.  To even imply otherwise shows a lack of humility, not to mention a removal from reality.  Danger!

Trust Your Instincts

No matter who the expert is, if something doesn’t seem right to you, go with your gut.  I’m a big advocate of following a well-educated gut, mind you.

In the process of researching, you’ll come across total hacks, people who have a few good points, and the occasional flashes of brilliance.  All those things combined allow you to make your own conclusions.

Before you know it, you’ll have tried and tested what you were curious about.  This, technically, makes you the expert.

Just don’t go calling yourself one.

Family Matters

As you age…wait, that’s a horrid sounding way to start a Monday…

As you grow further from being a child (better?) I think there is a tendency to look at your family and think about where you came from.  Where different traits come from.  Having a child I think I do this even more, not only with me, but with him.

He keeps drawing with his left hand and loves orange.  Is that my brother?  He’s obsessed with music.  Is that from me?

This weekend we took a quick trip down to Miami so Jonas’ great grandmother (or “bisabeula”) could finally meet him.

My “abuela” is from Cuba.  She came over to the US over 50 years ago and still speaks mostly Spanish.  She is a sweet woman, who laughs easily.

Like the time years ago when my parents went on vacation and had abuelo and abuela* take care of us while they were gone.  I would sit up at night with her and make her laugh by asking my grandfather variations of the same question over and over in Spanish.

Tu tiene frios en las piernes?  En la boca?  (Are your legs cold? Your mouth?)

I didn’t actually know much Spanish, so I took the one phrase I learned and attached every part of the body I could name.  Then, when I ran out of body parts, I switched to singing the theme song to some Spanish soap opera she was watching, Amor de Nadia.

Taken during our visit

Despite the language barrier, getting along with my grandmother was never difficult.  I knew enough to know when she was offering food and drink, or to get her explaining what she was cooking in the kitchen.

Mostly I have fond memories of sitting next to her in her rocking chair while she would stroke my hair and tell me I was pretty and I needed to stay in Miami with her.

While we visited her this weekend, I was straining to understand something she was telling me (my Spanish is still lacking).  After a couple of repetitions I realized that she was saying something about how she used to stroke my hair, and now I would do it to my little one.

Sometimes it’s hard to see what traits were passed down to us and from who.  I hope that from my abuela I got some sweetness.  And her ability to always laugh at something.

Jonas being told he can't have bisabuela's cane

Currently Listening to:  I’d Rather Dance with You by The Kings of Convenience

If you want more of me today, go check me out in an interview on the lovely Angelina Hansen’s blog.

*for a really long time as a child, I thought that “abuela” and “abuelo” were their names. I later found out that was just Spanish for grandma and grandpa.  Their names are Esperanza and Jose.

Friday Inspiration

In the fourth grade, our teacher would spend a portion of every afternoon reading from one of her favorite books.  Some kids fell asleep.  Some kids doodled.  But some of us sat there and imagined ourselves in the story.

Or at least I did.

This same teacher introduced me to one of my favorite authors, Roald Dahl.  She read us Matilda, and I was hooked.

Many years later, when I was teaching, I passed my love of all things Dahl down to the kids at my school.  If you’ve never read any of his books, go to the library (or bookstore) now and read some.  If you are already familiar, read his accounts of childhood, which will explain a lot about the inspiration for his stories.

In honor of my love for Dahl, I bring you today’s thought:

There is a great deal of wisdom in Dahl’s books, perhaps one of the reasons I love them so. In a society that puts such a strong emphasis on outward appearance, I find this one especially beautiful.

Too many of us forget that it isn’t all about the external.  That even if we say nice things, it’s equally important to be thinking nice things, too.

Sometimes it’s hard to do.  We are bombarded by horrible images and stories throughout our day via the news or even unfortunate interactions with people around us.  Then, we get home and plop in front of the television, where the choices there may be no better.

So, this weekend, take a little time to fill your head with something good. And then dwell on those thoughts.  I guarantee you’ll feel better.

No one will even notice that impossibly long hair growing out of your chin.

And if that doesn’t motivate you enough…

It's true. I can hear them scream.

Have a great weekend, everyone.

 

Currently Listening to:  Oswald on the TV in the background

Who’s Your Leading Man?

I promised a follow up post to last week’s “Who Would Play You?” with a post discussing your leading man.

In keeping with the way last week’s post began, I stuck the hubs face into the lookalike generator at MyHeritage.com.  I held my breath as I waited for it to tell me that my leading man would be that guy who plays Andy in “The Office”.

Instead it returned the following:

"Not a lot of people know that."

First up, Michael Caine.  (That’s Sir Michael Caine to you.)  Despite the hubs lack of a smooth accent and distinct cadence, there are some simliarites.  For example, neither of these men use their given birth name.  I guess “Maurice Joseph Micklewhite” didn’t have that Hollywood ring to it.  (You should really talk to Benedict Cumberbatch.  He seems to be making it work…)

And how can you go wrong with an actor that has been nominated every decade from the 60s to 00s?  He’s worked with everyone from Noel Coward to The Muppets.  Unfortunately, with that vast experience comes age.  While the hubs is older than me, Sir Caine is still a few too many years away from even Diane Lane.

"I object."

Next up, Gerard Butler.  He does have the hubs eyes, is only a year his junior, and has the slightly crooked smile that seems to show up whenever a camera is present.

But the similarities end there.  As much as I love his Scottish accent, if I am going to be that inaccurate just to listen to him speak, I’ll go with Dougray Scott instead.

I did find it interesting that he was in a rock band while studying to be a lawyer.  Which makes him perfect to play my cousin’s man.

There you are.

The last pick, well, we can stop comparing.  Since many of you last week found Marisa Tomei to be a suitable pick in the role of me (despite never showing up in the MyHeritage search), I think you will appreciate bringing these two together again.  Who didn’t love them in “Only You”?  If we can have an encore of Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks, why not these two?

And, because I know you all are wondering, let me introduce you to the actual hubs.

Ok, he's not THAT old.

Here he is.  In a 1956 yearbook photo.  I couldn’t resist.  Those aren’t his ears.  Or hair.  But the face is all him.

Aww.

So what do you think?  Sir Caine, Gerard, or RDJ?  Who plays the leading man in your movie?

(You all totally thought I was just going to say Nathan Fillion and call this post done, didn’t you?)

Currently Listening to: Jonas pronounce his “s” like Sean Connery.  Maybe he is trying to tell me who he wants to star in the movie.

Ed. I forgot to note that I do have male readers, so feel free to comment with your leading lady, boys.

Amber Alert (The Tale of My Kidnapping)

If you sit down with me and start chatting about childhood memories, it is inevitable that I will tell stories involving my two older brothers.

One of many I like to tell is the story of how I was kidnapped from our backyard.

Yes, yes, I know.  There is nothing more hilarious than a missing child, right?

Before my family moved to The Sunshine State, we lived in the lovely state of Connecticut.  Not the fancy, upper middle class part, but in Bridgeport and Waterbury.

Aren't we cute? We're the younger set of 3.

When I was 4 years old, we lived in the upstairs of a home on Red Oak Road.  Our house backed up against a wooded area, so when you went outside there was a bit of yard to play in, then the woods.

My parents, the good parents that they are, taught my brothers the importance of staying in the yard, knowing the woods might be tempting for two boys excited by the opportunity to explore.

While we were relatively safe in our little yard, there was a group of teenage boys, “punks” as my dad would have called them, that liked to cause problems in the neighborhood.

For example, one day, my mom looked out the back window to see one of them in the yard standing over one of my brothers’ toy trucks.  He was pouring gasoline over it, with plans, one would assume, to set it on fire.  (Even if he did tell my brother that he was just “washing” it for him.)

These boys had an old shed in the woods they would hang out in occasionally, all the more reason for my parents to set the “don’t cross the property line rule”.

One day, the three of us were playing in the yard. My brothers, eight and six years old, and little me.  I don’t have any memory of what we were doing – kicking a ball around, playing airplane, chasing each other – whatever it was, we were interrupted by the group of “punks” walking into our yard from the woods.

They walked up to where we were playing, picked me up, and ran back towards the woods, my poor little big brothers chasing them.

When my brothers reached the back of the yard, the property line, they came to a quick stop.  The punks continued their escape into the woods, with my brothers standing there, looking at each other helplessly.

“What do we do?”

“We can’t cross the line.”

“Yeah.”

“So what should we do?”

“Maybe we should get mom and dad.”*

I obviously don’t know exactly how that conversation went, since, you know, I was being carried further into the woods at this point.  But that is the gist of it.  I know there was some debate over “crossing the line” and that they eventually came to the decision that they needed to get my parents.

In the meantime, I’ve been carried through the woods to the old shack.  The boys took me inside and shut the door.  All I remember was it was really dark, and there were sheets over some things.  They were making noises that I think were intended to scare me, banging on the walls, moving things around, and “oooooo”-ing like cartoonish ghosts.

During all of this, I just sat there, quiet.  I wasn’t scared.  I didn’t believe in ghosts and could tell that they were making all the noises.

After what felt like a few minutes, they picked me up again, walked out of the shed and started to head further into the woods, away from the house.

I was nervous now, but still quiet.  I didn’t understand why they took me, but heading away from the house I was aware that I might be in trouble.

And then, over the shoulder of the boy carrying me, I saw the police officer who lived next door and my dad.  Running.  Towards me and the boys.

I don’t know if the officer or my dad yelled at them or just ran at them.  I do know that the crew realized that they were being pursued.

And dropped me.

I was slowing down their getaway, and whatever they had planned was not worth getting snagged by the officer and my father.

Within seconds, my dad had me in his arms.

That was the moment I finally started to cry.

To this day, I still react that way in potentially dangerous/dramatic situations.  I remain very calm throughout.

And when it’s all over, when I am safe and the moment has passed, I cry.

*It should be noted that both of my older brothers are insanely smart individuals.  Off the charts.  Don’t judge them on this little exchange.

Currently Listening to: Fred Jones Part 2 (Live) by Ben Folds